


A Lost Cause

by imnotpoppunk



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Gen, One-Shot, Other, split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotpoppunk/pseuds/imnotpoppunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Walker doesn't like listening to his friends fight all of the time. He wants everyone to get along, but he's got to draw the line somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lost Cause

Jon runs his fingers through his hair restlessly. He can hear the screaming in the next room over, he can just hardly believe it. There’s nothing more he hates than seeing the people he loves fighting so relentlessly with each other. It’s heartbreaking, to say the least. But they’ve been at it for over fifteen minutes now and Jon is growing more and more worried by the second.

His eyes flicker toward the hallway and he’s about to march over and do something– anything to get Ryan and Brendon to finally stop fighting. Spencer passes him, crossing the room to the tattered couch in the corner, pretending to be preoccupied with his phone. Jon’s eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“Does this not bother you?” he asks, his tone almost desperate. No, not almost. It’s completely desperate. At this point, desperate is all he can manage.

 Spencer looks up from the device and gives Jon a tired look, shaking his head in defeat before he says, “It’s a lost cause, man. I’d rather not get involved.”

 Jon opens his lips to say something, but he can’t find the right words. He can see that look in Spencer’s eyes. He can see that he’s tired of this, too. But unlike Jon, he’s totally given up. Jon refuses to give up, though. This band is the best thing that’s every happened to him – hell, it has to be the best thing that’s happened to any of them. It just _has_ to be.

 Jon looks back toward the hallway and as he does, Ryan comes storming through the dressing room. He’s red in the face and making his way over to his stuff on the other side of the dressing room. Jon’s chest hums with worry and he immediately follows his friend.

 “Hey, buddy, what’s wron-“

 “He’s what’s wrong. He’s– Fuck it, I’m leaving,” Ryan says, standing up straight and turning to face the other man. Jon’s eyes widen and his lips part because no– no, this is not happening. Ryan is not leaving. No one is leaving–

 “Come on, it can’t be that bad,” he says, though he’s bluffing because he could hear some of the names they were calling each other in the other room, and most of them are things he’d rather never repeat. “You don’t have to do this.”

 “I’m not going to keep working with that fucking maniac of a–“

 “I can fucking hear you, Ross!” Brendon roars as he enters the room. Jon spins around to see an equally angry-looking Brendon storming into the room. It looks bad, this all looks so, so bad, but hey– they’re all in the same room. Maybe they can work something out. No. They absolutely have to work something out.

 “Guys, come on, let’s tone it down a bit, okay?” Jon says, keeping his voice calm and steady as he starts to step between the two. Brendon hasn’t taken any steps toward Ryan, but Jon really thinks it’s in each of their best interests. They’re just both hotheaded individuals and they need their space from each other. It’s been a long tour, and that’s probably what’s getting them all riled up. Everyone just wants to go home.

 

“Jon, stay out of it, this is between me and–“ Brendon starts to say before Ryan cuts him off.

 

“Oh, what, you’re gonna yell at Jon now, too? The fuck has Jon ever done to you?” Ryan snaps, and Jon’s heart continues to twist in his chest. There was a time when the two of them would do nothing but hang out and stare lovingly at each other– what happened to that? What happened to the happy, giddy couple he used to know. Sure it was annoying sometimes, but God, he’d take that any day over this. At this point, he’d take anything over this mess.

“It’s okay, I understand you’re both mad, everyone’s a little stressed right now,” Jon says, still trying to brush off the animosity. He glances back over at Spencer, who’s taken to the couch again, pretending to be so engrossed with his phone. Jon frowns because he doesn’t understand why Spencer isn’t trying. He should be at least trying.

“This isn’t just– It’s not stress, Jon,” Ryan scoffs. It was a scoff, yes, but at least it wasn’t a shout or a scream. Jon could accept that as progress. “We’re just . . . This is not where I want to be anymore.”

“Right, we want different things and all of a sudden you’re going to just run away from this,” Brendon shoots, his tone just as nasty as he probably intended. Jon turns to look at Brendon again, who has taken a step towards him and Ryan.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, get over yourself! Not everything is about you and you just can’t accept that!” Ryan says, his volume rising quickly. Shouting again. Oh God, they’re shouting again. “You’re fucking crazy and I don’t want to stick around for it! It’s done! This is my last fucking show and I’m done.”

Jon stares at Ryan in disbelief. Ryan just scowls and turns back to his stuff, packing up. He knows he’s packing up because they all have to– they’ve got to catch their ride to the airport in an hour– but this is different. This is something that’s final and it shatters Jon from the inside out.

“Ryan, please, don’t go,” Jon begs. He can feel his throat clenching up, his eyelids threatening tears. “Nothing will be the same without you.”

 “And maybe that’s a good thing,” Brendon offers, icily.

“Fuck. Off,” Ryan insists, sending daggers in Brendon’s direction. Jon jumps aside. He runs his hands through his hair again, grasping at the strands as he mutters a silence ‘ _Fuck’_ to himself. He paces over to Spencer again.

“Come on Spence, I’m begging you to at least say something,” Jon says, in a hushed voice as Ryan and Brendon start yelling again. Spencer actually rolls his eyes at the suggestion, like what Jon is saying is utterly preposterous.

 “Do you really think there is anything I can say that’ll make this better?” he hisses, his eyes darting over to the dueling pair. He scoffs at them and rolls his eyes. “No one can fix that train wreck. Maybe it will be better if Ryan leaves.”

“How can you– Spence, how can you say that?” Jon asks, looking so crestfallen that Spencer has to look away. He doesn’t like what’s going on either, but he knows what he’s saying is the truth. Jon just needs to understand that things can’t stay the same. “Ryan’s your best friend, isn’t he? I mean . . . to an extent, aren’t we all best friends?”

“We were,” Spencer says, softly, as his eyes glance over at Ryan, who’s now furiously stuffing things into a suitcase as Brendon kicks over a chair. He can feel the tension and from across the room, because it’s filling the air and suffocating all of them. “I love Ryan to death, but maybe leaving is a good thing. I mean . . . ever since he and Brendon . . . you know. Could you even imagine what it must be like?”

Jon looks at the former couple, his heart now heavier than ever because no, he didn’t stop to think about it that way. He knows Spencer’s right, but he can’t help but think that there has to be some way that they can fix this. He absolutely refuses to believe that Ryan is leaving.

Jon leaves Spencer’s side and goes back over to Brendon, thinking hey, Brendon might listen to him if Ryan won’t. He’s got to at least try. That’s way more than what Spencer’s doing, anyway. 

“Brendon,” Jon says, and the other man immediately spins around, his face still taught and angry. He takes a deep breath before continuing and saying, “Man, it doesn’t have to be like this you know–  I think we’re . . . I mean, we’re all good together, right?”

Brendon doesn’t say anything in response; he just sends a glare in Ryan’s direction despite the fact that he isn’t even looking. He rolls his eyes and turns back to his suitcase and Jon’s mind is reeling with a thousand possibilities. He doesn’t even know what ignited all this fighting in the first place. What ever it was, Jon assumes it was something bad.

“Maybe he won’t leave us if you just apologize–“ 

“Oh fuck, are you kidding me?” Brendon snaps at Jon, making him jump back. Now Brendon’s yelling at him, and Jon feels so uncomfortable with the situation. He can’t deal with this. This is far too much confrontation. Jon is just trying to get all of his friends to get along. He doesn’t intend to upset anyone further.

 “Yes, great idea, Jon,” Ryan perks up, turning back to them and giving Brendon a smug grin. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

  
“What makes you think I’m the one that needs to apologize?” Brendon demands to know. Jon gasps and shakes his head quickly because that is totally not how he meant for his words to sound. Not at all. “Ryan’s the arrogant son of a bitch that needs an attitude check, not me!”

“Brendon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–“

“You’re gonna believe that bullshit?” Ryan scoffs and oh no, oh no, oh no. Now Ryan thinks he’s–

 “Ryan, I’m sorr–“

“Stop trying to twist the man’s arm, Jesus Christ,” Brendon shouts over him. Jon bites on his lower lip, his throat tightening again. He just doesn’t understand why they won’t fucking _listen_ to him. Everything feels like a disaster, like his whole world is spiraling out of control. Just like that, it hits him that this might actually be the lost cause that Spencer has already accepted it to be. No matter what he says or does– Whether Ryan is actually leaving or not– it’s just never going to be the same loving, happy band that it used to be.

He shakes his head as he turns his back to the arguing, clenches his eyes shut because no! That just won’t do! This band means the entire world to him and he’ll be damned if he lets this get in the way of that. Brendon and Ryan can set aside their differences. They can make amends with one another. They just have to.

“Just leave now, dammit!” Brendon shouts across the space between him and Ryan that’s quickly growing smaller and smaller.

“Get the fuck out of my face!” Ryan snarls. Ryan shoves Brendon back, sending off a frenzy of alarms in Jon’s head. No, that is not okay. That is _so_ not okay.

“We are not doing this! We’re not fighting!” Jon says, finally raising his own voice because he’s so tired of this yelling. Spencer looks up from his phone, shocked to hear Jon getting so worked up. He’s usually the calm one. He’s the one with the level head who never ever yells.

Brendon and Ryan don’t notice because they’re still going at it with one another. They’ve got such a hatred in their eyes and it just kills Jon to see that. They’re not supposed to be fighting! He takes another step toward them.

“Fuck off, Jon, this doesn’t concern you!” Brendon snaps and, to be fair, he’s only trying to push him away. He doesn’t mean it when he shoves Jon hard against his chest, sending him toppling backwards. But he does. And everyone watches as Jon falls.

The blow shocks Jon more than anyone because he never in his life thought Brendon would lay a finger on him– on anyone for that matter. But this is it. He’s lying on the floor because the band mate he thought he trusted hit him so hard he fell over. He’s not hurt, no, but he could have been. He wonders how much Brendon actually cares about that.

“Fuck, man, I didn’t mean to–“ Brendon says, his voice hurried, but Jon can’t tell if he’s apologizing in a genuine way or not. He reaches out a hand to help him up and Jon just shakes his head, blinking back tears because, fuck, this is it.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore either,” Jon admits, clenching his eyes shut as he sits up. The words hurt as they leave his lips because he doesn’t want to admit it, but suddenly he’s thinking that this entire band has gone toxic. Jon doesn’t want to be in any toxic environment, so the only real way to get away from it all is to . . . fuck, he doesn’t want to. But Brendon is basically leaving him no choice. And Spencer’s still too cowardly to get involved. And Ryan . . . well, Ryan’s leaving anyway.

The room is almost deafeningly silent as Jon stands up. Jon doesn’t even try to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks as he picks up his suitcase and heads for the door.

“I’m going to see if I can catch an earlier flight,” he mutters to the room. There’s no response. No one tries to stop him. Of course not.

He draws in a shaky breath and rolls the suitcase behind him as he goes to find someone from management that can hook him up with just that. And earlier flight. He needs to get out, he needs to go home. He feels like he doesn’t even know who these people are anymore.

He gets most of the way down the hall before he hears hurried footsteps behind him. Someone was running after him. Jon turns to see Ryan running towards him, face flushed as he catches up.

“Are you– fuck, are you really leaving?” Ryan asks, sounding almost heartbroken. Jon swallows hard and nods. “Please don’t leave because of me if– if music makes you happy or whatever, please don’t give it up for me.”

“This isn’t even about that anymore,” Jon says, shaking his head. Ryan looks confused, searching Jon’s face like it holds all the answers. “I thought that you guys . . . You know you guys mean the world to me, I just thought we were all friends. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Friends to make music with. Friends to share these crazy experiences with – not fucking animals who scream at each other and hit each other. I don’t want that, Ryan.”

“I know, I know,” Ryan says, like he’s trying to soothe Jon. Jon doesn’t even realize he’s gotten so worked up. He breaks eye contact and brings his sleeve to his cheek to sop up any wetness. “Listen, between you and I, my decision to quit was a long time coming. This was supposed to be my last show, anyway.”

That doesn’t change much, but for some reason it still hurts Jon. He blinks back fresh tears and shakes his head, trying to think of something worth while to say to the man in front of him.

“And you didn’t tell any of us? You couldn’t even tell me?” Jon asks. Ryan winces because he didn’t realize Jon would be so hurt by his confession. It wasn’t a huge confession anyway.

“It’s not like that, I promise,” Ryan insists, but Jon still isn’t buying it. He doesn’t know what to believe from anyone anymore.

“What do you want? I’m not going back in there, I can’t do this anymore,” Jon admits, even though it hurts so much every time he vocalizes it. It’s like getting stabbed through the chest. Repeatedly. He doesn’t know what it’s actually like to get stabbed, but it’s got to be fucking close. In any case, it can’t be worse than this.

“I have this concept for a new project,” Ryan says, and Jon sighs. He’s so tired. “And if you want to . . . I’d like carry it out with you.”

Jon shrugs, shakes his head because he just doesn’t know anymore. He’s got no idea.

“I need to leave,” Jon mumbles, and Ryan nods, letting Jon leave, but not before telling him to call if he changes his mind.

But Jon keeps walking down the hallway, barely able to believe that he’s leaving behind the best years of his life. The best memories he’s ever made with the best people he’s ever known. He just never imagined that it would end by going up in flames like this.


End file.
